


Beyond the Darkness

by Catherine_Easton



Category: The X-Files, The X-Files: I Want To Believe (2008)
Genre: Episode: s03e03 Irresistible, Episode: s05e07 Emily, Episode: s07e07 Orison, F/M, Horror, MSR, NC-17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-10 09:33:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 8,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2020026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catherine_Easton/pseuds/Catherine_Easton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post-IWTB. Mulder and Scully are building a new "normal" life in Maine. But, as Mulder noted in IWTB, The Darkness tends to follow them. COMPLETE work is now posted, including Epilogue at the end of Chapter 13. Thanks to all who took the journey with me!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Move

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have no claim to The X-Files and am making no money from this. No copyright infringement intended. 
> 
> Rating: Prologue and Chapter 1. are PG-13; future chapters contain strong NC-17 sexual content and some violence.

Prologue

 

It was an old two-story clapboard house, but somehow it suited the quiet couple that chose to inhabit it. Both were approaching middle age, though beyond attractive - even striking. Her, with her deep auburn hair dropping ram-rod straight down her back and intense azure eyes; while her tall, tight-muscled counterpart seemed to emanate a simmering sensuality. They kept to themselves, but it was impossible not to notice them...not to _appreciate_ them.

Rumours swirled about the couple from the moment they arrived at the house. Who were they? Where were they from? Why did they seem so ... insular? Why did they so rarely smile? But some how, some way, Alice just knew. They were meant to be her neighbours and they would be the ones to help her overcome the darkness in her life. She didn't need to see FBI badges. She didn't need to know they were experts on paranormal phenomena.

The second she saw them, quietly holding hands and cuddling close on a cushioned wooden swing in their large yard, she instinctively became cognizant of two things: 1.) these people were damaged, in ways she could not even fathom; 2.) they would help her fight the insidious, black evil that had invaded her existence.

***

Chapter 1. The Move

 

"Mulder, it's me..."

Scully was holding her Blackberry to her ear, likely smudging the screen with foundation makeup - an all-too-common annoyance - waiting patiently for a pause in Mulder's sales pitch for their prospective home buy.

"Don't say it. I know...it's antiquated, it's likely got foundation issues, it lacks privacy...."

"I love it, Mulder," she interrupted.

"You do?" he sounded genuinely startled. And maybe a little disappointed that he didn't have to try harder to win her over.

Mulder was often surprised how often they easily agreed when it came to big personal decisions. Fortunately, he did enough paranormal research on a regular basis - both to satisfy his own personal curiosity and for his new job - to tweak Scully into lively discussions that brought her feisty side out to play.

Mulder was relieved to finally leave the isolation of their old home and gloom of Our Lady of Sorrows Hospital behind. After Christian's stem cell replacement series yielded a positive long-term prognosis, Scully resigned from the hospital. She had had her own 'Samantha' to save in this young boy the same age as William ... even if she hadn't fully realized it. She didn't need to be a lady of sorrow anymore. After a beautiful vacation filled with walks on the beach, heartfelt conversation, scuba-diving, and sunburned sex on the small Southeast Asian island of Boracay, it was time for a new start.

Maine seemed like a good choice. Their work had taken them to towns all over the U.S., but Scully had connected with Maine during her only 'vacation' while working on The X-Files. Mulder, too, loved the majestic mountain landscapes, the quaint little white New England churches dotting the state and the small-town feel of their new home. He could almost smell the leather of the cracked softballs, and hear the soft whispering winds of the Vineyard and Nantucket shores.

So here they were in Lewiston, Maine. Scully would continue her career as a doctor at Saint Mary's Regional Medical Center and Mulder would teach parapsychology at the University of Southern Maine. He was free - there was no longer a need to hide from the FBI. And he was determined to tamp down the "those who can't do, teach" cliche that sometimes crept into his thoughts. He could do. But he chose not to.

This would be a life without The Darkness. Or so Mulder and Scully had hoped ... before Alice Bolger came to them for help. They had no idea a deep Darkness, indeed, awaited them.

***


	2. Missing the Limb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch 2. Installment. Rated NC-17

Scully had received word that Christian was having complications. The melancholy washed over her like an unexpected ocean wave, sweeping her under, taking her breath. Raw pain ate away at each of them from deep inside. Some days, Scully and Mulder were confused by it. Their life in Maine was what they had only dreamed about while on the run.

Most days, however, they knew the truth: life would simply never be right without William. Christian was a symbol, a subtle reminder that they couldn't reconcile their loss. Just as an amputee never stops missing the limb, they would never really learn to "live" without William. They could merely go on, hoping their love for each other was enough. The very love that produced a beautiful, extraordinary child.

Christian's brief recovery had been a Band-Aid, but the open wound now oozed anguish. Their passion was true, but also their escape. Even after a long day, it would take just a little stroke up and down Mulder's leg with the heel of her foot and Scully knew they were both lost.

"You naughty girl," Mulder flirted.

"You have absolutely no idea, Fox Mulder," Scully whispered huskily.

With that, she could forget her painful reality completely - at least for now. Scully tore open her blouse, white buttons ping-pinging to the floor. She didn't care. If nothing else, she had love. She had this man. Right here, right now, she could be happy.

"You amaze me," he choked.

He loved her so much, but he worried about her too. Sometimes she was almost too frenzied during sex, too eager to escape the demons plaguing her.

Even knowing she was troubled, he knew it was their way. It was them against the world, forever, always. When he pushed inside her, feeling her hot depths and knowing the true meaning of joining as one, he knew they could survive to fight the battles that would inevitably present themselves. She was his fountain of strength; he thrust and stroked and lapped at her till he could face the world again.

She leaned over him, breasts over his face, encouraging him to nurse them. He latched on, as their baby once had and sucked her nipple, hard. Her bra was still on, pushed down haphazardly, as if she had been a victim of attack. But Scully had led the show tonight, with Mulder merely following. Her push up bra brought her breasts up to unnatural levels and her stimulation filled and enlarged them. While he sucked and nibbled, she ground over his wet, hard penis, rubbing herself with abandon with her fingers. He couldn't take it much longer. She was too beautiful and he loved her too much. She was completely lost in her pleasure. Her fingers between her legs...while her other hand groped the nipple he wasn't sucking ...

The groan came from deep inside and he couldn't stop it.

"Be with me, Scully," he barely squeaked.

He didn't mean come with him. He wanted her _with_ him. To enjoy their life, to be free as they always wanted. Even as she cried out into the New England serenity, her orgasm taking her to a wonderful high, he knew she wasn't really happy.

"I love you, Dana Scully," he murmured into her sweat-soaked hair, wishing it was enough.

Knowing it wasn't.

***


	3. Can We Be Frens?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch 3. installment. Mulder and Scully's neighbour, Alice, is confused by strange occurrences in her home.

Alice knew from the very beginning something was wrong with her house. At first, she didn't pay attention. Doors slammed on their own, ceiling fans spontaneously began spinning and her six-year-old daughter, Zoe, reported - almost matter-of-factly - that someone was living in her closet. But all kids are afraid of monsters in the closet at that age...weren't they?

It only got worse. Strange odours emanated from the closet and Alice could find no source of origin for them. One day it smelled of rotting meat; yet another, the scent of peonies inexplicably filled the room.

 One night, Zoe became delirious with fever, talking nonsensically before fixing her stare just over Alice's right shoulder.

"I'll tell her," Zoe said, shakily, beads of perspiration dotting her brow.

"Zoe!" Alice shouted, hoping to knock her out of her trance. She was frightened by her daughter's behaviour. Alice was a single mom new to the area, and she desperately wished she had a support system to give her a much needed sanity check.

"Omigosh, Mom, that's really freaky," Zoe breathed, her eyes never leaving the area over Alice's shoulder. Then she fell back on the bed and started giggling.

The next day, the fever was gone and Zoe remembered nothing about the incident.

Alice searched online for possible reasons why these things were happening and came to the logical conclusion Zoe had a fever-induced hallucination. Alice was an educated woman, a paralegal with hopes to someday pursue a law degree...she wasn't about to let a minor fever make her believe she was living with Linda Blair.

Then Alice found the notes. Every day, there was a new one, wedged under Zoe's American Girl doll which sat on her electric pink IKEA bookcase.

The first simply said, "Can we be frens?"

"Zoe!" bellowed Alice. "Did you write this?" She knew the answer before she even called out to her.

Zoe appeared at the door, sucking a lollipop, left over from a birthday party loot bag.

"Nope," she responded, nonchalantly, her blonde curls angelically framing her face.

"Zoe, get that out of your mouth," reprimanded Alice. "Now, really look - are you sure you didn't write it and forget? Or a friend maybe gave it to you?"

Zoe had never before seen the note. Nor, did she write the many that followed, all written in crayon in a child's hand and littered with spelling errors. All appearing under the doll. They typically asked for Zoe's friendship, for her to come in the closet and play, or help her find her mommy.

Alice destroyed every note the moment she found them. She wondered sometimes if Zoe was playing a trick on her, but she knew it wasn't true. The odours continued...and the sounds. Muffled cries came from deep inside Zoe's closet. Cries of deep suffering, like a child waking from a nightmare.

Only, her child was not sleeping when she heard the sounds. And the only nightmare was the one Alice lived every day.

***


	4. Convergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 4 Installment

Alice had made a doctor's appointment for Zoe, even though the young girl seemed to be fully recovered from her fevered illness. She needed to get some reassurance this type of thing happened to children all the time. Of course, other children talk to themselves in closets and have imaginary friends. Of course, those imaginary friends wrote daily notes to them. Of course, strange smells came from a child's closet in a century home. Of course, cold drafts could be felt throughout the house though it was the middle of June ... typical for Maine, right?

The truth was that nothing was right and Alice needed someone in a white coat to tell her she wasn't crazy and her daughter was just fine.

Alice and Zoe grew restless in the waiting room. Alice fiddled mindlessly on her iPhone, while Zoe flipped through _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_. This was a hospital, not a clinic, and it had a vast, impersonal feeling to it, in spite of the cheerful Winnie-the-Pooh mural, Baby Einstein books and Little Tykes toys scattered on the floor. Several receptionists hustled patients to see the dozen or so doctors in this unit, almost consistently mispronouncing their names and making the whole experience feel assembly-line cold.

Finally, they were ushered into the "Tigger Room" - so identified by the bright orange tiger decal on the front of the door - where an efficient but aloof nurse mechanically took Zoe's height and weight before leaving her folder in a holder underneath Tigger's bottom. Don't sit down, Tigger, thought Alice randomly.

Then, Alice gasped internally. The doctor finally entered the room, her hair tied back loosely in a thick, black elastic, a stethoscope draped on her shoulders. She was petite and even more beautiful close up than Alice had deduced from across the yard. Her skin looked almost flawless, her face delicate, though her voice was confident and strong.

"Hello Ms. ... Bolger, I'm Dr. Scully. And this must be Zoe?" she asked, unaware of how flustered Alice had become. She was meant to cross paths with this lovely doctor. Their lives were meant to converge.

Alice wanted to burst into tears and tell this Dr. Scully all her fears, that she was living her own bloody Amityville Horror and she had no one to whom she could turn.

Instead, she said, "Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Scully. Zoe, say hello."

Zoe looked the doctor straight in the eye and said, "You live next to us."

Dr. Scully looked slightly surprised, then recognition passed over her face. Ah, the good doctor did note the neighbours around her new home.

"Of course. Please call me Dana - both of you," Scully said warmly. "We really should have taken the time to properly introduce ourselves earlier, it's just been incredibly hectic moving and settling in."

Alice immediately noted the woman referred to herself in the plural. She's been with the guy a long time.

The women continued to make small talk, while Scully took Zoe's medical history, blood pressure, and heart rate. Alice mentioned nothing about what was truly bothering her about Zoe's health and instead pumped the doctor for more information about her background and why she and her husband decided to move to Maine.

"My _partner_ and I just needed a change," Scully said ambiguously, gently correcting Alice.

"Do you have children?" Alice prodded. Following quickly with, "I know Zoe would love to have a buddy to play with right next door."

Alice could see she'd said the wrong thing and had clearly made her new acquaintance uncomfortable. Pain seemed to swim over her features, though it was ever so slight, like a mist over a beautiful portrait.

"No," she responded curtly, clearly not willing to share even another word about the topic. "Well, I think we're all done here."

Alice detected the "get the hell out" in the doctor's tone and tried to salvage the encounter somehow.

"You know, we only recently moved here as well. I would love to have you and your partner for dinner on Friday?" Alice tried not to beg, tried not to give into the temptation to overshare.

She could see the hesitancy on Scully's face and thought quickly how she could appeal to her kindness. "To be honest, it's been quite lonely. My ex lives in Boston and....well, I understand if you can't make it, but it would be great to get to know a few neighbours."

Scully felt less cornered and was sympathetic to this stranger's plight. She, too, was lonely for female friendship. She'd missed that over the years and this woman seemed oddly vulnerable.

"Of course - we'd love to," she found herself responding.

Alice was almost buoyant when she returned to her strange old house, with its creaky hardwood floors and spontaneous ceiling fans and bizarre smells. She had fallen in love with the charm of the place when she originally saw it, with its thick crown moulding and high ceilings, solid wood doors and thin honey-coloured maple floors. But now it seemed dark, empty, hot-yet-cold, and occupied - only, not by her or Zoe.

Alice's brief happiness evaporated when she entered Zoe's room. The American Girl was sitting across the room from where Alice was certain she'd been before they left. She now stood upright on the bureau and her long ash blonde hair was cut into a perfect shoulder-length bob with bangs. Yet, there was no sign of scissors or a single loose strand of the doll's hair.

Alice sat down on her daughter's twin bed, staring at the embroidered pirouetting ballerinas on the quilt. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

***


	5. Life, Interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 5 Installment

Dana Scully stood outside the classroom as the summer school students filed out, their ripped jeans and well-worn T-shirts reminding her university style - or lack of it - hasn't really changed since she was an undergrad. Some of these New England kids come from real wealth, though they still follow the unwritten college code to look poor and eat Kraft Dinner three times a week.

Mulder appeared square and out of place in this group, dressed in his crisp, blue shirt and navy and white nautical tie. He didn't try to pull off the cool-prof-wearing-jeans-and-a-tie look, and opted for conservative dress pants. Even so, his allure was undeniable. She admired him for a moment before entering the room, as he shuffled papers on his desk and placed his lecture notes in his briefcase. As he did so, a straggler from the back row of the stadium-seating classroom made her way to the front to speak with Mulder.

She was young and attractive ... and clearly suffering from a serious crush on her Professor. Scully waited another moment, not so much out of jealousy - she knew Mulder never considered other women - but out of curiosity. How awkward would this be? Would she do the 9.5 hair flip and knock over some pencils to present him with her derrière?

"Professor Mulder, I have a few questions regarding the Mothman legend?" she began, leaning her hip on the side of the desk and standing a little closer to Mulder than necessary. "You said you suspected there was more than just one of these creatures in existence...I was wondering why you think that?"

Mulder looked around instinctively, sensing Scully was in the room. Their eyes met and locked, hers twinkling slightly with amusement, him giving her a helpless-please-rescue-me-here look.

"Ms. Laplante, you've raised a very good question," Mulder said evenly, eyes never leaving Scully's. "Let's bring that up in class next week and make it a group discussion."

The young girl subtly thrust out her breasts, completed a fairly decent hair toss and lowered her black lashes.

"Professor, what are your office hours again?" she asked flirtatiously.

Mulder was starting to sweat a little, unable to control this increasingly uncomfortable situation. Like a child, he seemed unable to get the full gist of the girl's interest in him, yet knew in his bones trouble was afoot.

"Hmmm, I haven't scheduled office hours yet," Mulder lied. "Better get on that. Now if you'll excuse me..." Mulder needed out of his little corner but didn't want to risk brushing up against this hormonal teenager.

Finally, the girl thanked him and moved out of the way.

"See you next Monday, Professor!" she smiled over her shoulder.

Scully finally made her way into the room. "Professor Mulder," she leaned into him and whispered heavily into his ear, while placing a palm on each side of his face. "Are you absolutely sure you don't have office hours?"

Scully smiled mischievously and reached her right hand between his legs. "Maybe the little professor does?"

"Who are you calling little?" he responded good-naturedly, his eyes dancing with hers.

With that, he brought her close, cupped her face with his hands and kissed her. Soft, sweet, passionate. Scully stroked up his length, over his course dress pants, then down ... up, down ... slow and long, feeling him come to attention and thrust instinctively in her hand.

"Professor, I almost forgot - oh!" The girl was back, barging into the classroom with a new excuse to chat up Mulder. She interrupted Mulder and Scully's intimate embrace, their passionate kiss, obviously noting their flushed faces and, possibly, Mulder's raging hard on tenting his dress pants.

"Um, forget it," she murmured, backing out of the room. "I'll ask you Monday."

"Okay, you troublemaker," Mulder smirked. "What brings you down here? Are you trying to get me fired?"

"Oh God, Mulder, I am so sorry," Scully said sincerely, hands covering her face, her cheeks burning. Scully certainly loved him and loved having sex with him, but she wasn't one to be quite that public about it. "I thought she was gone!"

Seeing that Scully was mortified, Mulder rubbed a little salt in the wound. "It was a great job - the whole month I had it ... till this sex-crazed redhead molested me in front of a student..." he teased.

Scully gave him a playful punch in the arm.

"I actually just came to talk to you about a dinner invitation this Friday night."

***

Alice rushed frantically around the old house, wiping fingerprints off the windows, Swiffering the hardwood floors and tossing laundry baskets out of sight, while intermittently checking her Chicken Marrakesh. She entered Zoe's room to tidy and Febreeze - anything to dull the odd odours. She didn't want to scare her new neighbours away before they were ready to participate in her strange world.

Where was Zoe? She had set her up with a math game to play with on her iPhone while she cleaned and prepared dinner, but she was now no where to be found.

Alice listened closely. She heard small voices ... two of them. Little girls chattering to one another. But where...? The closet. Of course.

Alice breathed in deep and opened the door. Zoe sat with her American Girl on her lap squinting in the sudden onslaught of light.

"Zoe, who are you talking to?" Alice asked her daughter gently, trying to contain her increasingly frayed nerves.

"My friend," Zoe responded simply. Your friend from the closet. Who talks back - loudly enough that I can hear. Makes total sense, thought Alice sardonically.

Was she simply going insane? Was her daughter an innocent bystander, witnessing Alice's rapidly approaching nervous breakdown?

How is it the doll is wearing a completely new outfit - one Alice had never seen before and never purchased?

Alice looked more closely. A shiny gold pendant hung from the doll's neck.

The doorbell rang, further shattering Alice's nerves. As she headed downstairs to greet her guests, she couldn't possibly fathom just where in the hell Zoe's doll had acquired the tiny gold cross.

***


	6. Into the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 6 Installment

Dana Scully clearly didn't enjoy talking about her past. As the three adults and Zoe sat around Alice's solid, knotty pine dining room table enjoying naan and Chicken Marrakesh, Alice tried several different tacts to gently gear the conversation toward her guests and their backgrounds. She was desperate for some confirmation of her overwhelming sense they were to play an important role in the recovery of her sanity.

Fox Mulder was slightly more chatty than his girlfriend, though often used wit to re-direct the conversation.

"So what brought you to Maine?" Alice asked breezily, trying to appear she was merely making conversation.

"The warm weather," Mulder replied wryly. "And Scully can't live without an occasional fix of Atlantic lobster." His partner shot him a look, but Alice pressed on.

"Do you mind me asking why you refer to each other by your last names?"

When Mulder revealed both he and Scully were former FBI agents who specialized in investigating unexplained crimes and events, she knew she had been right about them all along. And he was a professor of parapsychology - an added bonus.

Zoe has been quiet up until now, sulking since Alice had insisted she vacate her closet to meet their guests and leave the American Girl in her room. She focused on Scully, giving her an almost glazed stare.

"Where is your baby?" she asked suddenly.

"Excuse me?" Scully responded, her face whitening.

"Where is your baby?" Zoe repeated.

"You know, we're all going to die," she added flatly.

Scully exchanged questioning looks with Mulder. Alice stayed silent, feeling helpless.

Zoe spoke again, with an equally emotionless tone, no childlike wonder sugaring her intonation. "It found you. It wants you to know it found you."

"Zoe, stop it," Alice pleaded, tears sitting inside her lower lids, threatening overflow.

"Who found us, Zoe? Can you tell us what you are talking about?" Mulder asked the child gently.

The little girl looked at Mulder, golden locks of hair framing her cherubic cheeks, "Elsa" from _Frozen_ singing from her T-shirt. Though she looked every bit the normal six-year-old, she had the three adults at the table sitting tensely, waiting for her answer.

"The Darkness," she said.

After a long, awkward pause, Scully addressed the little girl. 

"Zoe, would you mind if we spoke to your mommy alone for a moment?" 

The child stood up and left the table, leaving the rest of her dinner on her plate. She didn't speak again, didn't smile.

Once she was out of earshot, Mulder and Scully turned to Alice.

"How about you tell us exactly what is going on her, Alice?" Scully demanded, pleasantries long abandoned.

***

And so she did. Alice felt as though a tremendous weight was lifted as she told Mulder and Scully about the strange occurrences in her house, her daughter's increasingly bizarre behaviour, the smells, the voices, the closet, and her premonition that Mulder and Scully were connected to it all in some way. She told them about the notes. And the doll.

"May we see the doll?" Mulder inquired softly, trying not to further upset the obviously fragile woman.

The three of them went to Zoe's bedroom, where the child sat in a small rocking chair, the doll perched on her lap. The American Girl was still in the "new" outfit of unknown origin: a bright red ribbed turtleneck sweater and blue jean overalls.

Scully gasped audibly and murmured, "Oh my God!"

Mulder reflexively reached around Scully's waist and brought her close, protectively. He knew, he understood. From her ash-blonde bob, bangs, round blue eyes, down to the the tiny doll-sized gold cross around her neck, the resemblance was as obvious as it was undeniable. Even the outfit was one she'd owned.

Zoe brought the doll to Scully.

"Say hi to Emily."

***


	7. Postmortem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 7 Installment

"Are you okay?" Mulder asked her tenderly, keeping her close to his side as they approached their walkway. His soft, concerned voice both touched and annoyed her. He was treading carefully, walking on eggshells, like you would do with a hysterical person.

He was not wrong about her state of mind. Inside, Scully felt hysterical. She just thought she deserved more credit for hiding it well.

Mulder unlocked the front door and they entered their home. The moment the door clicked shut, Scully turned to him, barely able to keep her voice even.

"What the hell just happened in there, Mulder?" One moment they were eating dinner with their new neighbour, the next she was staring at an exact replica of her dead daughter, with a semi-possessed child calling the doll 'Emily.' Just what was it with creepy dolls in Maine anyway? Scully wondered through her panicked haze.

In spite of not completely comprehending what, if anything, supernatural was going on, Mulder could feel Scully starting to tremble when she saw the doll. As Zoe attempted to "introduce" them to Emily, he quickly ushered Scully to the front door.

"I'm so sorry, Alice," he said over his shoulder. "We can't do this right now. But I'll be in touch soon."

The woman looked confused and utterly devastated. Mulder wasn't sure if Alice had been expecting them to perform an on-the-spot exorcism or start channeling ghosts after she had told her story, but there was nothing more he could do for her tonight. Except get Scully out of there before she lost it altogether.

"I'm not exactly sure, Scully," Mulder began in response to her question. "We'll have to find out more, interview the little girl, maybe get a medium in there to shed some light ..."

"Surely, you're not buying into this?!" Scully exclaimed, her rational side starting to take over now that the initial shock and fear were subsiding.

"It's got to be a trick. She could have found things out about us...coached her daughter. She could have found out about Emily. The fact I tried to adopt her is a matter of public record...there were photos of her - likely wearing that very outfit, now that I think about it."

"But why?" Mulder asked softly, one hand gently tucking her hair behind Scully's ear. "What would she have to gain in executing this elaborate ruse? What would anyone have to gain?"

Scully stepped away from him, unshed tears filling her eyes.

"Then what? Are you suggesting my deceased daughter's ghost is haunting the house next door?" Scully's voice wavered and went up a few octaves.

"Do you think that?" Mulder countered, stepping close to her again.

Ah, the old psychologist's turn-the-questions-on-the-patient trick, thought Scully cynically.

But she wasn't in the mood to spar. "Mulder, I don't know what to think." She buried her face in her hands, feeling exhausted emotionally.

"We need to investigate this, Scully," Mulder said, embracing her. "My theory right now is we are likely dealing with a poltergeist - the master of tricksters. It's tapping into our presence next door and our 'baggage' to terrorize this family. Or..."

"Or what?" Scully looked up at him. The tears had tipped over her lower lashes and streaked slowly and steadily down her cheeks.

"Or it's some sort of demon," Mulder said solemnly. "In which case, it's targeting us directly. Either way, we're connected somehow."

"I know we are, Mulder," Scully whispered resignedly.

She looked so sad, Mulder wished he could just whisk her off to another tropical vacation and leave all this. But they were personally and intricately involved this time; even Scully was certain they didn't have a choice. It was time to face the Darkness yet again.

All they could do now was fight the fight.

***


	8. No Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 8 Installment

She didn't think she would be up to making love tonight but sometimes her body surprised her. She wanted nothing more than to forget the Darkness, the loneliness of her lost children, the fear...it could all be gone in the arms of Fox Mulder. She felt his love surround her and she needed that...so, so badly. 

It wasn't just the sex. It was him. She loved him so completely. Nothing could bring her comfort - except him. And it certainly helped that he was damn sexy as well. 

Which is what she was thinking as she straddled him. He was so beautiful, sinewy muscles holding her, looking at her with heavy, dark eyes, lost in passion - and love. She raised and lowered herself on him, feeling every inch of him deep inside her body. Here, if only she could stay right here, forever. 

"Mulder," she whispered suddenly. "I love you." They didn't often talk during sex. And her admission, though shared before, had never been delivered while she sat on top of him, his cock buried in her. But tonight, she needed him to know. 

He looked at her so tenderly, so filled with reverence. She didn't deserve it, she thought. "You are my...everything, Scully. Love doesn't even begin to cover it." 

She fell forward a bit, pinning his nipple between her thumb and forefinger and rubbing vigorously. Orgasm was on her heels and she intended to let it capture her. Till she saw it. 

She suddenly stopped short in her manual manipulations on Mulder's body, one hand on his nipple, the other moving up and down over his balls, as his penis flexed within her. She became rigid, fear permeating every cell, sweat dripping from her pores.

"What is it?" Mulder asked, concerned, wondering why the moment, so breathlessly close, had been truncated.

Scully could only stare at the disturbing image in the corner of the room, shivers frightening themselves a path down her spine. 

Sitting in the corner of their bedroom, a naked Donnie Pfaster cradled a newborn baby on his lap. Pfaster appeared in only a remotely human form, horns perforating his forehead, his mouth taking on a serpent shape. Pfaster's forked tongue lapped the tender face of the tiny baby.

William appeared as he did during his miracle birth: beautiful, wide-eyed, perfect. He cooed unsuspectingly at the Devil holding him close. 

Scully and Mulder's innocent child being held by pure Evil was too much for her to absorb, too much to fathom. Mentally, Scully's world was shifting, her mind playing musical chairs to which she hadn't agreed.

"Oh, please God. Please, help us," whispered Scully.

***


	9. William

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 9 Installment

"Don't stop, Girlie-Girl," Pfaster snarled, revealing razor-sharp teeth inside his snake mouth. 

"I like watching you fuck. So does your son."

With that, he lay the baby on the floor next to him. William's face immediately went red and he started to howl, his flush contrasting with the white bunny-eared sleeper he wore. Pfaster reached down and began pulling hard on his own long, black penis, stroking himself as he smiled wickedly at Scully.

"Keep fucking, Girlie-Girl." His deep, gravelly voice sounded just as Scully remembered it. Her blood ran cold. Never before had she felt so stripped of all defences, so violated and so raped emotionally. This monster invaded her during the most intimate act with the man she loved, the only place where she had been able to feel safe and comforted. In addition, he somehow presented the baby version of her precious child, though consciously she knew this was impossible. 

What was happening?

Mulder's penis twitched inside her. He was still hard but looked only confused and concerned...not frightened or alarmed. He didn't hear it. Didn't hear Pfaster's appalling, grotesque words to her or William's strangled crying.

"Scully, what is it?" 

Scully abruptly climbed off him, got off the bed and turned on the lamp on the night table. The crying stopped immediately as the light illuminated the room. When she turned around, the corner was empty. Pfaster and the baby were gone. 

"Talk to me, Scully," Mulder implored. "You saw something. What was it?"

Scully stood before him naked, trembling, trying hard to rationalize what she saw. She wasn't ready to share it with Mulder. It was just...too much. The attack hit her where she was most vulnerable emotionally; she wasn't even sure it was real. Perhaps the stress of the evening brought on the vision. Perhaps she was overtired. Perhaps she was trapped in a nightmare, just waiting for Mulder's gentle kisses to wake her from her slumber. 

"I'm...I'm sorry, Mulder," Scully stammered weakly. "I need to clean up." And with that, she retreated to the bathroom, switching on the light quickly and latching the door behind her. 

Scully put the toilet lid down and sat. She buried her face in her hands and cried quietly, big sobs heaving her chest, emotional tidal waves hurling inside her. My baby, my baby, Scully thought. How can I protect my baby from this?

***

Mulder knew something happened to Scully while they were making love. Utter terror passed over her face and he heard her softly pleading for God to help them. When she came out of the bathroom, she'd clearly been crying - hard. And though she refused to reveal to him what she had seen, she urged him to find a medium for Alice in the morning. 

"Mulder, do you think it's possible this thing with Alice has something to do with William?" Scully asked, raw emotion breaking her voice. Her fear scared him, but he tried hard to hide it.

And though he wondered why she asked this, he also knew better than to push her right now. She would tell him what happened...when she was ready. 

"I don't know, Scully," he said honestly, feeling the palpable terror bouncing around her entire being. 

"But I promise you, we'll beat this together. And we'll make sure our son is safe." Mulder sounded confident, strong. He was determined to make the statements true, in spite of their fears. 

Both side lamps stayed on for the rest of the night. 

***


	10. The Medium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 10 Installment

Mulder found Melanie O'Sullivan through his academic connections at the New England Society for Psychic Research. Within the parapsychic community she was highly regarded as both a medium and precognitor.

"Mulder, what does that mean? She's going to read our palms? We don't need a fortune teller - we need to know what is going on _now_." Scully had had just enough recovery time over the last week to resume her characteristic skepticism.

"Scully, Melanie doesn't claim to know the future. She is able to use her gift as a medium to gather information from a _possible_ future. Her philosophy includes the acknowledgement of free will," Mulder explained, as he prepared for their seven o'clock meeting with Melanie at Alice's house.

"Sounds to me like she has herself covered either way then," Scully said, her face filled with doubt.

"Her ability as a precognitor may not even play a part tonight. But we need her right now and we are very lucky she agreed to help us. I had to pull a few favours to make this happen...so please try to have a somewhat open mind." Mulder glanced at Scully as he changed out of his pinstriped shirt and tie into his post-work plain white T-shirt.

She had had a difficult week, he knew. Scully's normally healthy sexual appetite had not recovered since the night she had mysteriously interrupted their lovemaking, seemingly frozen in fear. She'd been sullen and teary-eyed for most of the week. Mulder was also startled to find her in the bedroom on more than one occasion this week looking at snapshots of young Emily and William as a baby. He didn't understand the connection between William and Alice. Mulder knew it had something to do with the episode that took place while they were having sex - but Scully still couldn't talk about it.

Now her scientific mind, programmed to knock fear out of her system, sought to chalk the whole medium idea up to nonsense. He decided his best offence was to appeal to her intrinsic desire to help people.

"Scully, at the very least, she is scared and needs help. If nothing else, this may provide some peace of mind," he offered tentatively, hoping Scully would stop using skepticism to quell her fears.

Scully nodded noncommittally. She wondered if Mulder was talking about Alice or her.

***

Melanie O'Sullivan was not what Mulder and Scully expected. She wore no beads or flowers in her hair and spoke nothing about auras. An attractive woman in her early 40s, she could easily have been mistaken for another doctor from Scully's office. She wore her long brunette hair in a ponytail, dressed conservatively yet casually in a T-shirt and blazer, and had a clinical seriousness about her that immediately made her...credible. She spoke in a small, lilting voice and asked only a few background questions to supplement the file Mulder had prepared for her.

Alice, on the other hand, was clearly deteriorating. She seemed edgy, flitting around offering her guests drinks, while providing Melanie with as much information as possible. Dark circles under her eyes spoke of no sleep, while shaky hands revealed extreme exhaustion.

Alice told Melanie she was certain a demon was making its way into her dreams every night. He had horns, a forked tongue and called himself 'Donnie.'

Mulder shot Scully an alarmed look. The blue eyes that met his were fearful but lacked surprise. Which surprised him.

Zoe spoke of her relationship with her imaginary, friend, Emily, who she claimed had styled her American Girl to her likeness - so Zoe could see what she looked like when she was alive.

Melanie listened carefully, but said very little. Then she asked everyone to sit at the dining room table together. She addressed Mulder and Scully solemnly.

"You haven't explained to Alice who Emily and Donnie are and their significance to you," Melanie began. "And it may not even be necessary to do that."

Mulder and Scully exchanged a look. They had not discussed Emily and Pfaster with Melanie, either.

She then turned to Alice and Zoe.

"These events, as disturbing as they have been, don't actually revolve around you. You've been caught in the crossfire, so to speak." Melanie reached across the table and patted Alice's hand. "Your daughter is young, innocent and open. It's very typical for children to be vulnerable portals when entities are present. You are going to be fine. So is Zoe.

"But I need you to listen to me very carefully. You need to leave your home immediately. There is a battle raging here between good and evil...and you don't need to be subjected to it any further."

As Alice tried to absorb Melanie's observations, Melanie looked at Mulder and Scully worriedly, then quietly spoke again

"This battle is only about you."

***


	11. Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 11 Installment

_“How can I be substantial if I do not cast a shadow? I must have a dark side also if I am to be whole."_ ― C.G. Jung

 

Alice was shaking hard. Though it was a relief to hear she wasn't completely insane, in a way it would've been an easier concept to accept than the notion that she and her daughter had truly been taunted by an otherworldly and malevolent entity over the last few months. It was a great deal to absorb - but not now. Now was the time for survival.

She stood up so abruptly, her chair fell backwards, breaking the spell Melanie's words had cast over the room. She grabbed Zoe's hand firmly to escape the evil at last.

But when the child looked back at her, it wasn't her daughter. Zoe's blonde ringlets were replaced by a short, ash blonde bob. It was the same face the doll had morphed into. It was Emily. Alice, startled, dropped her hand.

"Mommy, don't let her take me!" the child screamed, addressing Scully. "Mommy, help me!"

"Oh my God," Scully cried, covering her eyes. Scully looked at the child again, taking a deep breath, expecting to see the child revert back to Zoe. But the pleading girl still had Emily's face, Emily's voice, Emily's cross.

Mulder, seated next to her, reached for Scully's arm. "It's not her, Scully," he said quietly, close to her ear.

"Melanie, help me!" Alice cried hysterically. "What is happening?!" She tried again to reach for the little girl sitting next to her. Suddenly, Alice was flung through the air, the sound of her head hitting the wall penetrating the tense air. The woman remained pinned, suspended on the wall, the sound of her screams mingling with the banging of her skull, as it thudded repeatedly against the antiquated plaster, small cracks already denting the wallpaper. The room seemed to have its own heartbeat, rhythmically drumming and increasing with every passing moment.

Mulder ran to Alice's position at the wall, but even standing on a chair, she remained out of his reach. A final thump where head met plaster for the last time landed Alice unconscious. The thudding of her head stopped, though she remained pinned to the wall, grotesquely crucified with invisible nails.

Scully jumped out of her chair, instinctively searching her back for a gun she no longer carried.

Mulder looked to Melanie for guidance, his face imprisoning his rising panic, a few beads of sweat dotting his brow. He stumbled two steps backwards, overcome with emotion at the sight before him.

Eight-year-old Samantha looked back at him, her long brunette braids sitting in front of her shoulders.

"Fox, I want to come home," Samantha said, her childish voice replacing Melanie's solemn lilt.

Emily called out for Scully. "Mommy! Mommy, help me!!" Behind Emily he stood, just as Mulder and Scully remembered him. Tall, menacing, dressed neatly in a buttoned up shirt and tie, a demented smile spread across Pfaster's face. He held a pair of shiny scissors in his right hand.

Scully scanned the room for a weapon, blinking back the stinging tears. She and Mulder locked eyes.

They realized their true demons weren't Pfaster, poltergeists, ghosts or aliens, but the guilt and regret for those they felt they'd failed to protect. Even now, in whatever supernatural circumstances that brought Emily and Samantha back to them, Mulder and Scully still felt helpless to save them.

The Darkness surrounded them, their long-time enemy circling to dominate them at last.

***


	12. Ma Soeur, Mon Amie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 12 Installment

_“We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.”_  
― Plato

 

Pfaster approached Emily, picking up a thick lock of her hair and letting it spill between his fingers. He closed his eyes in ecstasy. The little girl had ceased her cries for Scully and sat quietly, as if in a trance.

"I will enjoy this," he said, opening his eyes and addressing Scully. She stood across the table from him, trying to stay rational and calm in spite of the nightmare playing out before her. She tamped down her building hysteria, feeling her own sanity starting to teeter. Her eyes searched the room and found Mulder's again. He grounded her, reminded her of all they had overcome. There is a way out of this, he seemed to telepathically convey. We will bring peace to the souls of our loved ones and we will get Alice, Zoe and Melanie out of here.

Pfaster, meanwhile, revelled in his horrific taunting. "Children are a wonderful gift, aren't they, Girlie-Girl?" he grinned, eyeing Emily and Samantha.

"You bastard," Scully spat at him. "Go back to Hell!"

"Maybe I'll spare them if you two fuck for me again," he dared her. "I've missed that this week, Girlie-Girl. You know how big my cock gets while he fucks your wet little pussy. And now we have an even bigger audience." Pfaster again eyed the young children, both quiet and silently entranced, hopefully oblivious to the horror of Pfaster's words and the scene unfolding before them.

Mulder, still standing across from Scully under Alice's suspended body, noticeably flinched. The realization of what had happened the other night dawned on him and Scully saw anger, fear, and desperation curtain his face.

"What do you want from us? Why are you here?" Mulder asked. If not for the utter and rising terror of the situation, Scully would've found Mulder's attempt to psychoanalyze a demon from Hell almost amusing.

"You brought me here," he hissed, morphing into his serpent shape, tongue pronging, clothes dissolving.

Suddenly a voice came from above Mulder. The voice was raspy, familiar, comforting, full of calm and confidence. "Dana, Fox, you are giving Darkness a place to thrive." Alice was conscious, speaking from her invisible cross on the wall. Only it wasn't Alice. Melissa's bright blue eyes, soft red hair, and radiance was unmistakable.

Scully sucked in her breath, tears finally paving a slow path down her cheeks. "Missy," she said, her voice breaking on the syllables.

"There are forces here trying to protect you, to remind you of the good in the world. They have been fighting these demons. But now it's time for you to fight too.

"Just as the two of you have conjured Darkness, you have also together created the ultimate light, a saviour. These demons are trying to distract you from your real quest.

"Don't let them win."

***


	13. Beyond the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINAL Chapter Installment and Epilogue

_“Fear can only grow in darkness. Once you face fear with light, you win.”_  
― Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free

 

The lights flickered several times. Suddenly the bay window blew open, letting a warm wind and a smattering of leaves wash over them. Melissa's head drooped back to unconsciousness and the invisible cross released her body. Mulder turned her on her back to check for a pulse, and found himself looking into not Melissa's, but Alice's face. She was alive.

Pfaster and his glimmering scissors were gone. Little Zoe, free from her trance, no longer looked like Emily. She ran frantically to her mother's side.

Samantha, too, had disappeared in the mayhem and morphed back to Melanie, groggily shaking her head in bewilderment.

Scully ran to Mulder's side to take over Alice's care and do a cursory check of Zoe. Mulder pulled out his cell phone and called paramedics just as Alice began to regain consciousness.

Alice seemed fine, but was taken by ambulance to a hospital as a precaution. Her last memory of the evening was reaching for Zoe's hand to leave the house. A Children's Aid representative supervised Zoe during her mother's medical tests.

Zoe remembered nothing about the evening.

After Alice and Zoe were taken to the hospital, Melanie re-grouped with Mulder and Scully in the clapboard house.

Melanie had no recollection of "Samantha"'s assumption of her physical existence and no memory of Pfaster's presence or Alice being pinned to the dining room wall. Her last memory was advising Alice and Zoe to vacate the house.

Melanie's evening, however, was extraordinary. As they sat in Mulder and Scully's living room, she spoke with her gentle lilt, explaining her vision to them.

"As you know, I am a precognitor as well as a medium," she began. "But my visions of the future can be impacted - and revised - based on the decisions we make as people...our free will.

"I am hoping you will take what I tell you very seriously. I have never, in my entire life, experienced a vision of the future so vividly and so absolutely.

"The future of Mankind is at tremendous risk. There is a very real apocalypse in our imminent future. I strongly believe you know how to fight it. And the fact that you have not been acting on that knowledge is tearing you apart from the inside out. Your inaction creates Darkness all around you. It leaves you vulnerable to Evil on Earth that will do anything to sabotage the human race.

"Dana, Fox, you know what to do. He needs you. You must teach him how to use his gifts; it will change our fate. Abandoning him does not protect him; otherwise, he will die, just as we all will."

Scully suddenly remembered Zoe's eerie question and comment when she and Mulder went to dinner at Alice's.

_"Where is your baby?"_

_"You know, we're all going to die."_

"Are you trying to tell us this whole thing is about our son?" Scully sniffed audibly, her voice shaking. Mulder, sitting next to her on the brown leather loveseat, squeezed her thigh. "He's just a young, innocent boy. How can we do that to him? How can we put him at risk, have him shoulder, quite literally, the future of the world?"

"He isn't just a normal boy. He is the Saviour," Melanie's voice seemed heavy, weighted down by the gravity of her words. "Dana, I know you have battled extraordinary Darkness. You have also created the greatest of Light. You, of all people, must believe in him."

Scully looked at Mulder. His eyes were soft, moist and contemplative. He reached out and instinctively stroked her cheek.

Softly, he said, "Guess He's not just reading the box scores after all."

Scully managed a small smile through her tears.

***

Epilogue

Alice and Zoe Bolger never returned to the century home again. Packers were sent to collect their belongings. Alice left specific instructions to donate the American Girl, who mysteriously had long hair again and now wore her original outfit, to Goodwill.

Alice decided to stay in Maine. She and her daughter were free of nightmares, crayon-written notes, voice-filled closets, strange odours, and imaginary friends. They started life anew, with a rare appreciation of their peaceful existence.

***

Melanie O'Sullivan wrote about her experiences with Mulder and Scully (protecting all identities, of course) in a published piece for the New England Society for Psychic Research. She continues her work as a medium and remains in touch with Mulder and Scully regarding her precognitive visions.

***

Mulder and Scully nervously climbed the stairs of the farmhouse. They stood on the landing, holding hands, both trying to keep their feelings in check. The moment felt so huge, more momentous than either could truly comprehend. They turned and looked at one another.

"Ready?" Mulder asked softly.

Scully nodded. He knocked on the farmhouse door.

Mrs. Van De Kamp opened the door.

"Dana, Fox," she greeted them. "He's waiting for you in the living room. He's been expecting you." Mrs. Van De Kamp smiled to herself.

"William's been expecting you for a very long time."

****

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:
> 
> A tremendous thanks to all who bothered to take this journey with me. Like many others, I had some serious issues with "I Want To Believe" - not because it was a MOTW, but because it just wasn't scary or as personal as it should have been. And it resolved nothing about William to set up his possible role in a third (mytharc) film. I would've really liked the second film to be truly scary, very sexy, and serve to lead Mulder and Scully back to William. This is my personal attempt to create something along those lines.
> 
> Like many writers, much of my fiction comes from real life experiences. I have lived in two separate century homes. My daughter experienced fever hallucinations, the same as I described happened to Zoe, in one of those homes. There were also weird occurrences with her closet...but that is a whole other story.
> 
> By the way, I really do think the little girl who played Emily looks like an American Girl. (Sorry Mattel, for borrowing/bastardizing your brand...used without permission, no money was made from this, blah, blah). I don't know - I always found that kid a bit creepy. 
> 
> Finally, I hope this story leaves questions in your mind about what was really happening in the house and the forces of good and evil at work. I didn't want to provide all the answers - not sure I even have them. So there is no nice wrap-up, no solution with a bow on top, no true happily-ever-after. 
> 
> Seems right for them.
> 
> \- Cate Easton-Ellison


End file.
